"Most probably."
"An ignorant slanderer!"
"Oh! surely."
"A monster!"
"I wager anything you like of it." But it was of no use; unconditional assent failed to pacify her. So she went on for hours; and it cost me untold pains to earn the brunette's permission to offer her an ice, or to win one single smile.
CHAPTER IV.
Le Morvan during the Middle Ages—Legendary horrors—Forest of La Goulotte—La Croix Chavannes—La Croix Mordienne—Hôtel de Chanty—Château de Lomervo—A French Bluebeard—Citadel of Lingou.
But I must return from my Andalusian belle to the rugged Le Morvan,—a patriotic, but, in spite of the broken finger, by no means so captivating a subject.